


Teach Me How

by AStoneTown



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, First Time, Marriage, Sequel, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 06:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7924978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStoneTown/pseuds/AStoneTown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander never really wanted to be a teacher, but on his wedding night he would make an exception for his new wife.</p><p>Sequel (or add on) to my <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6327751/chapters/14498860">Which One?</a> story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me How

**Author's Note:**

> This is a smutty sequel to my Which One? fic, as promised. You don't have to read that to get this, but...it helps. Mistakes are my own and I love Eliza, the end.

** Teach Me How **

* * *

 

Sequel (or add on) to my [Which One?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6327751/chapters/14498860) story.

* * *

Alexander never saw the point in teaching. He taught himself most of what he knew, grew from the ways of life he found himself in. When he first lay with a man it was a fumbling excuse of sex and when he first lay with a woman it wasn’t any better. It was constant questions and confusion until things just  _ clicked _ . Both times it happened just mid-way through, suddenly the hip movements went from jittering to steady strokes and he could read on the faces exactly that he was doing it right - and there was nothing more satisfying, more confidence-building to a man like him than  _ that _ .

 

Despite this, he found himself almost burning with the urge to teach Eliza.

 

The memory of her on her knees, those wide eyes and her willingness to just  _ do it _ . She was purer than he ever was, and definitely more so than anyone he had ever been with but she wanted it. 

 

She wanted to satisfy him, to give everything she was to him.

 

Whispered promises that she would be everything he wanted, that she would give him a child… it shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was but the vulnerability hidden under the powerful urge to please was just a constant hit to his groin.

 

Maybe after a few months, when he came back from the war, maybe they’d be different and she would take charge, push him against a wall before she would even greet him, glassy-eyed but sure as she took him into her mouth.

 

But this night? Their wedding night? He would take pleasure -  _ so much pleasure  _ \- in her kneeling in the center of their bed, pale naked skin illuminated by the candle light. 

 

She was almost unblinking as he undressed himself, slowly keeping his eyes on her body. He knew how she would taste, knew how she looked in the throes of passion - he got her there enough times, but now he would get to feel her clench around him, her hands pulling at his hair… He almost wanted to forgo any build up, hoping that she was as ready as he was to just go for it - but he had been with people whose first time it was before, once or twice, and there was nerves that made it harder and he wanted her to be open and wet and ready for him, to know no fear.

 

Kneeling before her she smiled shyly up at him, dark eyes through her lashes that held a slight air of smugness, obviously aware of how she affected him. It was good though, some confidence, she was quick to learn and it was easier if she wasn’t scared. 

 

“My Eliza,” he paused his hands moving to cup each side of her face, thumbs smoothing over her blushing cheeks, “my  _ wife.” _

 

“Husband,” she whispered in reply, her voice husky and he smiled brightly at her, all teeth and dimpled cheeks. Maybe he was a little drunk still and that was fine, because he felt nothing other than completely merry.

As he moved forward to press a kiss to her lips, he moved one hand from her face to grasp at her wrist, bringing her hand towards his erection.

 

“Look how you make me feel,” her fingers wrapped around him in the way she had told her before, slightly awkward due to their mirrored positions but no less enjoyable as she delicately trailed her fingers up and down, “I don’t think I’ve ever been attracted to someone more.”

 

There was lies and truth to the statement, at that moment he knew it was likely he  _ had  _ been at one point probably equally aroused, but nobody had ever been Elizabeth Schuyler, nobody had ever been his wife, his solely, and it was something that made her more attractive than he can remember anyone ever being.

 

In a happy turn of events she nuzzled into the hand still cupping her face before removing it, copying his earlier movements and bringing it towards the apex of the thighs, widening her kneeling stance slightly as he made contact with the wet curls there.

 

“Look at how wet you make me,” she was quiet with her words, but it had the desired effect, causing Hamilton to whimper, his fingers trailing down her folds, gathering the moisture on the tips of his fingers before bringing them up circling her clit.

 

Her hips started moving in time with him then, finding friction in the light touch. With the experience they built over the months it seemed that Eliza grew more confident than he could have imagined, moving the hand that had been wrapped around his cock to the back of his head, bringing him towards her for a messy kiss.

 

He was almost relieved. Whilst her hand hadn’t been doing much more than careful exploring, the feel of her on his fingers, the look of her in front of him and maybe the liquor that still swam through him was enough that he was already keyed up. And he needed to be top form for the finale. 

 

It took a lot of inner-strength to pull himself away, trailing his wet fingers over her thigh and looking into her dazed face.

 

“Lie down,” a command but a kind one, and she smiled, lying on her back spreading her legs out and resting her hands on her stomach. He stared at her for a moment, his hand trailing to his cock, unable to stop himself from stroking once at the image, “you’re so beautiful.”

 

A blush rose on her chest, and he felt almost proud that she didn’t make an attempt to deny it - he spent months showering her with truthful declarations of her beauty, it almost hurt him that she would deny them so fervently in the beginning. That she could not believe that anyone would think her so.

 

“So are you,” she replied after a few moments, her voice almost catching in her throat and he gave her a cheeky grin. Shrugging a shoulder, slightly bashful. It wasn’t extremely manly to be called beautiful, but it felt as genuine as he had been nonetheless. 

 

He took his time looking at her, hit by the wave of how  _ special _ this actually was. Crawling over her, he noticed her shiver and fought a smile - he knew this game. He’d kiss her, gently all sweet promises before he’d make his way down her body, trailing a tongue over the curve of her breasts, slowly making his way down her stomach, focusing on no place long enough before nuzzling the curls between her thighs, trailing fingers through her folds until he opened her up to him, his mouth on her clit aiming on making her scream.

 

Everything went as planned, her body curling upwards as his teeth grazed against the skin of her abdomen, she made a noise he hadn’t heard in all their time together before, a mewl mixed with a gasp that caught in the back of her throat the moment his tongue hit her clit and he had to stop himself from rutting into the bed and ending the night with a disappointing murmur instead of a bang. The candles cast her naked body in such a lovely light, and the way she moved against his mouth as he tasted her was a sight he wouldn’t forget soon.

 

“Alexander…” stumbled out of her mouth, his first name too long to be screamed in the throes of passion. He knew Hamilton worked, usually accompanied by a growl and a curly headed man almost rolling his eyes at his teasing… but that was then and this is a different now, and he knew they’d find their way. They’d know what words to scream and how to scream them. He’d make sure of it.

 

Focussing his lips around her clit, his fingers finally made a move to her opening - the important part of all of this foreplay was preperation. She was wet enough,  _ god _ was she wet enough, but he didn’t want that moment of pain, discomfort before settling was fine but he didn’t want her face to contort, he didn’t want blood and he knew full well that it could be avoided...if everyone was prepared.

 

Inserting one finger, his eyes shot open as he monitored her movements, one hand clutched the sheets beneath her the other clenched and unclenched resting on her stomach, her head turned to the side as she took in steadying breaths.  _ Beautiful _ , he whispered against her and smiled as she smiled. The second finger caused her to shift slightly and he whispered encouragingly against her, starting a slow and careful thrusting movement before joining it with his lips on her clit, sucking and licking until he could feel her wetness running down his fingers her hips moving in a rhythm known to so many but new to her. She was shy with her moans but soon forgetful about any reservations as he added a third finger and focussed so intently on her bundle of nerves that she moved over into the more natural and primal responses - she couldn’t stop her groans, couldn’t stop her hands from moving to his head holding him to her. 

  
  


He felt his own moan at the pulling of his hand, his eyes still focussed up her body as the three fingers opened her and moved and her head was flung back her neck on show and he wanted to bite at it, suck it, mark her but he ignored  _ that _ primal part of himself in favour of bringing her closer to the edge.

 

“Yes,  _ oh my god _ ,” it was the littlest warning she gave him before her back arched and she clenched around his fingers and let out a gorgeous moan of  _ Alex  _ that fell so naturally from her mouth he started to work at her clit with more vigour, wanting her to say it again and again and again…

 

The pulling on his hair changed to his head being literally pulled away, her hips working to move from his touches and he complied, somehow managing to resist, and flopped to the side still in line with her pussy as she shuddered with aftershocks.

 

“That was…” she begun, bringing a hand to her mouth unable to think of the words.

 

He shifted to rest his head on her stomach, looking up at her as he fisted his hard cock, “Mm, it was…” he replied, dark eyes glassy with emotions, love, adoration, awe, and maybe some nerves thrown in.

 

“I want you inside me,” she whispered, a blush on her cheeks as if she wasn’t just eaten out by him, as if he  _ wasn’t  _ just three fingers deep inside her. He nodded, and moved away, situating himself between her willing legs. He looked at her glistening folds and moaned.

 

“You’re so beautiful, my Betsey,” and despite previous situations when he spoke this particular nickname to her in an intimate setting, it fit and was comfortable. He brought his hand sparing little niceties as he pushed two fingers inside her, glad at how easy they slid in, and how despite being sensitive she also seemed to crave it.

 

“Please, Alex,  _ more,”  _ the last word was a whisper and he couldn’t wait for the day when she’d demand it from him, demand he give her what she wanted, without any worries that it would be improper. Here they were Eliza and Alex, lovers… no war or family duties, just...them.

 

“Your wish, Eliza, is as always my command,” he said sincerely as he moved over her. He realized that there was no real way to teach this, no way to be analytical. You taught by showing, one day soon she’d be confident enough to climb onto his lap, to fall to her knees in front of him, to demand he lick her pussy until she couldn’t take any more, but this would be the first time and he wanted her to see there was nothing to be scared off, because he could see a little fear, flickering in her eyes and he kissed her nose in an attempt to dismiss, “You can touch me.”

 

She was sparked into action then, her hands framing his face, pushing through his long hair, loose from his ponytail, her knees lifting to cradle his hips automatically, bringing him down into a decidedly messy and wet kiss that was so perfect in its imperfections. Through her distraction, he brought one hand down to his cock, bringing to to her wet folds and teasing the head against them, grinning against her lips as she let out a little gasp.

 

“It shouldn’t hurt,” he told her, pushing slightly so the head of his member entered her and she shifted and let out a little mewl.

 

“Angelica said it always hurt… the first time.”

 

“Not if you do it right,” he whispered, pushing inside her slowly - it was hard, she was wet and warm and tight and she let out a sharp groan but her hands moved down his back to his ass, feeling all of him in a way she hadn’t yet allowed herself to. After he was sheathed inside her, he allowed her to settle, there was no pain on her face - the discomfort he expected crossed her but after enough moments she looked up at him, dark eyes almost black with passion and she gave him a little nod.

 

He pulled out slowly, pushing back in just as slowly and kept the rhythm up until she started to move with him, catching onto the movements and matching them her legs shifting higher on his hips, and he could see it, her getting restless wanting more but not entirely sure what  _ more _ was. She let out a noise that was something close to frustration mixed with lust and he rested his head against her chest to hide his grin, before pressing a kiss to her nipple his tongue darting out to taste the sheen of sweat on her skin. 

 

He picked up his pace after a teasing delay and he started moving with more purpose, his thrusts quicker and he revelled in the look of her eyes. It was that moment he knew from his own experiences with sex - that moment where he clicked and just  _ knew _ what was happening, even as his hands moved to shift her legs higher and guide her sometimes errant thrusts back on him he knew she was understanding it, enjoying it more than she probably expected. 

 

“I love you,” she whispered into the nights air and that was something different, he could feel his balls tighten at the declaration because he never had  _ this _ and love and sex and a  _ wife  _ and he repeated it back to her, moving a hand from her thigh to press his fingers to her clit attempting to focus on both slowly his own release and bringing her to hers again. 

 

“Eliza,” he couldn’t help but groan, the way she felt around him, the way she wantonly moved against him, “so beautiful.” He could feel himself getting closer, feel the way he wanted to blindly pound into her, to move his hands to clench them in the bedsheet’s by her head to focus on his own pleasure and he was relieved when she came again - though that was quickly replaced by the sheer pleasure of how she looked beneath him, how she felt around him and he let himself fall down onto one of his forearms, his head falling next to hers, one hand clenching on her thigh as he moved the way he wanted - with only one goal in sight.

 

He allowed himself to be selfish, he allowed himself to let go and it took pleasure in the moment of release when he held himself deep, spilling himself inside of her in a way that was for the first time hopeful (although he didn’t dwell on it, because then maybe his eyes would burn, and he didn’t think crying into the neck of your new wife was much of a passion builder).

 

“Oh… that was more than I…” she tried to say into the night, her voice tight and he groaned as his softening cock slipped from her, him flopping down to the side of her, leaning on one elbow to look down at her, his free hand pushing his hair back from his face, before doing the same to hers.

 

“You were amazing,” he trailed a hand from her face down her sensitive body, moving to press a kiss to her collarbone, “that was amazing. I had expected so much from this night…” 

 

“Me too,” she admitted, “I didn’t bleed.” She blushed as she inspected herself, bringing her hand away with only their mixed fluids coating her fingers.

 

“It’s not a necessity, my Betsey,” he told her again, “it is a shame that most men do not take their time to know their women intimately before they take them.”

 

She wiped her hand against her own stomach and he smiled at the sight, his hand catching her hand in his, “You are beautiful, that was beautiful…” she shifted her hips and he noticed her uncomfortable motions, “we will clean up, and then sleep?”

 

“Mm, maybe,” she was coy with her words and his eyebrows rose, jumping off the bed excitedly at the seeming promise of more to come.


End file.
